GAPS
by Patcat
Summary: During IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS.


GAPS

Ron Carver had told her once, over several post case drinks, that she was good on the stand. She responded with a snarky comment suggesting that Bobby intimidated him; Carver, his tongue loosened by one too many scotches, quietly agreed and pointed out that Goren, usually without trying, intimidated everyone. "But you," he said in his smooth, deep voice (Alex admitted that she enjoyed listening to Carver's voice almost as much as she did Bobby's), "You come across exactly as you are---tough, intelligent, fair. Juries like you."

"Flirting, Mr. Carver?" Alex had had perhaps one too many margaritas.

"I'm a happily married man," Carver had replied with a smile. And at that moment Bobby, who was wrestling with having had one too many Irish wiskies, had shuffled up to them and started rambling about group psychology.

Well, Alex thought, we're about to find out if Carver's right. His examination of her had been straightforward, thorough, and leaving, as far as Alex could see, no holes for the defense attorney to bash and expand. But the judge was playing as dirty as they come; even organized crime bosses might balk at attacking the severely ill mother of a cop, and even Nicole hadn't lowered herself to actually seeking out Bobby's mother. The judge had attacked everyone at their weakest points—Logan's violent history, Carver's few professional slips, an examination of Barek's brief and apparently unhappy time with the Feds, and, worst of all in Alex's mind, Bobby's ill mother. Alex stiffened as the defense attorney approached her. What would it be? Her time in Vice? Her father's indiscretions? Something about her late husband? Even, perhaps, the time when she was pregnant with her nephew? Would they try to turn that joyous time into something horrible? So far, the judge had only wounded them and his attacks had backfired. Barek had come to Logan's defense, and their partnership seemed on the way to a more solid footing. Carver responded to the attacks on his professional abilities with a cold fury inspiring him to move beyond his usually high level. And Bobby Goren, Alex observed with some pride and considerable admiration, had taken a horrible blow, reeled with it, and come back swinging to catch the judge in the admission of a horrible crime. The judge had clearly so far underestimated the strength of his opponents. In separate sessions, she and Carver, and she and Goren, had planned for Alex's time in the witness chair; had attempted to anticipate what the defense might fling at her. I'm as ready as I can be, Alex thought.

And then, horribly, awfully, she realized she wasn't. Why was the attorney asking her about Bobby? Hadn't they finished with him? Weren't they going to go after him when he was on the stand? Sure, he had made mistakes, but he recovered, and he was right most of the time. And what was this paper…Oh, God, no…Alex felt the breath and blood rush out of her. How had they gotten this? How could they know? Her answers clogged in her throat. Carver…Carver…help me here…Don't let me hurt him…Through a fog, Alex heard Carver's objections, watched as, defeated, he sat down. She didn't dare look for Bobby, but she could feel his dark brown eyes on her as she stumbled through her answers. I'm stabbing him in the heart, she thought. I'm hurting him as much as the judge.

"Please," Alex heard a voice something like hers say, "I want to explain." Her heart dropped to her shoes as the defense attorney dismissed her.

Carver appeared before her. Quietly, calmly he said, "Explain detective."

Alex grabbed the strong, thick rope Carver threw to her and simply told the truth. Every eye in the courtroom was on her. The defense attorney watched as the jury swept out of his control, and he knew his desperate effort to discredit the evidence by attacking the investigator had failed. Carver, with no small satisfaction, watched as the jury and the judge both swayed towards Alex Eames. The accused ex-judge, puzzled and angry at his failure to destroy the detectives, watched as Alex hammered shut the nails on his coffin.

Alex was dimly aware of others in the courtroom, but there was only one person she wanted to reach. Please, she thought, please understand, Bobby. Please know that I trust you…that that transfer request was made five years ago…before I knew you…before you knew me…please.

Detective Robert Goren sat uneasily near the back of the courtroom. He was afraid, and of all the feelings he hated, being afraid sat near the top of the list. The hatred was deepened by the fact the fear wasn't for himself, but for Alex Eames. They knew, now, how far their enemy—and it was clear this was an enemy on a deep level—was willing to go. Everyone but Eames and Deakins had been touched, and both of them were checking their backs. Logan seemed to be alternating between fury and resignation; Barek seemed cautious and slightly amused. But Bobby…Bobby, in spite of his recovery and his satisfying ability to throw the judge's efforts back at him, was hurt, deeply hurt on many levels.

His mother had been doing well, or at least as well as she had for some time. To her delight, she had been working in the center's small library. She had actually been able to read some of the books Bobby had brought her; they had shared conversations; she knew who he was; she was proud of him. And then…

After his initial shock, he didn't blame the Carmel Ridge staff. The man's story was credible; he had the right credentials; his mother received so few visitors. After the center's call, Bobby had rushed to the Carmel Ridge; he had no clear memory of the drive. His mother was as bad as he had ever seen her; strapped to the bed, restrained, she did know who he was. He was, she screamed, the monstrous son who kept her in this prison, who had abandoned her, who was part of the conspiracy. Her doctors, sad-eyed and exhausted finally told him to leave the room, that he was making her worse. In the hall, Bobby heard her screams until the sedatives finally took hold. He slipped back in her room to watch her ragged, restless sleep.

"I'm sorry," all of the doctors and nurses told him, and he could see in their eyes that they all meant it. "It's a setback, a bad one," one doctor told him, and another, a new member of the staff who had quietly mentioned that Bobby's mother might be able to leave the center for extended periods suddenly couldn't meet Bobby's eyes. Bobby, drifting in and out of a nightmare laden sleep, stayed with her all night. As he walked to his car the next morning, Bobby found several messages on his cell phone—two from Deakins, two from Carver, five from Alex. As he drove back to the city, he returned the calls, and by the time Bobby saw the skyline, a response to Judge Harold Garrett was in place.

Bobby pulled off to get fuel—gas for the car and coffee for him. At the early hour the station was nearly deserted, and he sat for a moment before turning the ignition, and the sobs suddenly took him. He folded his arms on the steering wheel and wept until he was empty of any emotion. He didn't want to fight anymore; he didn't want to hurt Garrett. Bobby just wanted it all to end. He wanted to run away, to leave it all--the damaged sons and destroyed fathers, the lost daughters and grieving mothers—he just wanted it all to go away. He considered turning the car west, away from the city, but loyalty to his mother, his job, to Eames, sent him in the opposite direction.

Garrett responded with satisfying predictability to Bobby's appearance in his office. In a perverse way, Bobby found he was grateful to Nicole for the fact she had toughened him, had in some way prepared him for Garrett's attack. But he couldn't have faced Garrett if he hadn't had Alex and Carver behind him. As they prepared for the trial, everyone was ready for another attack, but the Garrett camp was oddly quiet. And Bobby's greatest fear became not that Garrett would attack him, but that Alex would be the object of the now ex-judge's wrath.

Bobby was relieved the trial had finally started. He was not looking forward to testifying, but both he and Carver thought they were ready for anything Garrett and his lawyers could throw at them. It was Alex they were worried about. Both he and Carver had discussed her history and any possible gaps in her armor. They couldn't find any connected directly to Alex; she had an exemplary record. Of course, there was her father's history; there were things she didn't know about her late husband; there were the occasional conflicts with superiors and other officers. But there didn't appear to be a smoking gun or a club for Garrett to grab and wave in Alex's face.

Well, Bobby thought, as Ron Carver ended his questioning of Alex and Garrett's attorney strode towards Alex, we're about to find out if we're right. Bobby was as puzzled as Alex as the attorney began to ask her about him. Although they were physically as far away from each other as possible in the courtroom, their connection as partners was as strong as if they were standing next to each other. And then the attorney displayed the piece of paper, and the connection snapped.

Bobby went numb; his face blank. She wanted a transfer? She thought him dangerous? Was worried about his mental stability? Why hadn't she told him this? Why had she stayed with him? Did she still feel this way? He heard her voice waver and saw that she couldn't look at him. Explain? She wanted to explain….and then she called him "ethical" and "effective." What did she mean? Did she trust him?

Bobby couldn't look at her as she left the stand.

Alex Eames' opinion of Assistant District Attorney Ron Carver varied. The man could be a prissy stick-in-the-mud who righteously lectured her and Bobby Goren about the need to toe the legal line. He could act as much as an antagonist as any of the criminals they pursued. While Alex believed Carver was as intelligent as Bobby, she also believed the lawyer's thinking was limited. He frequently decried her and especially Bobby's investigative and interrogative methods, but he was quick to accept their successful results. But there were moments when Carver actually appeared to enjoy joining the detectives in some game or ploy. While he might deplore their methods and his definition of justice might be different, Carver shared Bobby and Alex's determination, and Alex occasionally sensed that he also shared their frustrations with the system in which they all operated. And, for all of their conflicts—perhaps even because of them—Alex sensed that Ron Carver, like Bobby Goren, was at his core a decent and good man. For all of this, Alex had never thought of Carver as the comforting type, but he treated her with immense respect and care as they left the courtroom after her testimony.

"It will be all right," he told her in his smooth voice. "I have some knowledge of juries…and this one liked you…and believed you. That jury will believe Detective Goren because of your opinion of him. Garrett and his attorneys made a grave mistake. The jury was impressed by your loyalty and your judgment…This attack on you and Goren is another reason for the jury to dislike Garrett."

"I…just didn't expect it…I withdrew that request…within days…I'd almost forgotten about it…how did they find it?" Alex was miserable.

Carver shook his head. "I don't know either…but we will find out…"

"I feel…just terrible…" Alex stared at her feet.

"We mitigated the damage," Carver said forcefully. "You did fine."

Bobby appeared behind Carver; Carver saw the sad and pained look in Alex's eyes, and became aware of the detective. Knowing the pair's need to be alone, Carver nodded to them and left.

At one point during Alex's testimony, in spite of his shock and pain, Bobby became horribly aware of Alex's obvious distress. The part of him that sought to protect everyone but especially those close to him, the part that first drew him to police work, nearly propelled him out of his chair and towards the defense attorney's throat. Years of training and discipline and his own intelligence thwarted the impulse, but Bobby's heart ached for Alex as much if not more so than it did for his own. At the end of Alex's testimony, Bobby had slipped as quickly and silently as he could out of the courtroom. He had to think. He was angry, confused, hurt, a combination resulting in a strange numbness. His thoughts raced at a pace several times faster than their usual frantic tempo. Remember, he thought, it was five years ago…when you first partnered…you started apologizing to her when you realized she would stay…she may have meant it then…but she stayed…she stayed…she came back…she always comes back…she believes…

Bobby watched Alex and Carver. Carver had treated Alex so well; he'd dealt with the situation perfectly. He'd have to thank the attorney some day, probably on one of those rare occasions when he and Alex and Carver were a little worse or better for drink. Maybe when all of this was over. But now he had to talk to Alex. Bobby moved cautiously towards his partner. Alex looked at him with eyes full of pain; Carver, sensing his presence, turned, nodded, and gracefully withdrew.

What should I do? Bobby thought. What I want to do is take Alex in my arms and tell her everything is ok and I'm sorry she has to go through this…I want to tell how much she means to me…how she's the best thing that ever happened…

Bobby became aware that Alex was trying to give him a desperate apology. His discipline and training kicked in again, and he was standing almost at attention at a respectable distant from her. He took refuge, as they often did when confronted with horrible things too close to them, in humor.

"You're right…I am an acquired taste." He walked past her, hesitated and turned. "I was lucky when you withdrew that transfer." Bobby turned to walk down the hall; he had taken several large steps before he realized Alex wasn't beside him. He turned again to find her standing and staring after him.

Ok, Bobby thought. Humor isn't going to cut it…I've got to give her more. He strode back to her. "We need to get back in the courtroom, Alex."

She looked up at him; her eyes glistened and he could see the red lines where she had bitten her lip.

"It's…" Bobby took a deep breath. "It's ok, Alex…I think I understand…I don't think there's anything to forgive…but if it helps….please…I'm just so grateful…" Bobby's voice began to shake.

"We…we're ok?" It was all Alex could trust her voice to say.

Bobby nodded. "But…I need you…I need you there…while I testify…"

"I'm there," Alex said simply and brushed his arm.

"Thank you," he whispered, and they entered the courtroom together.

End


End file.
